Still Into You
by Llmav
Summary: In which Austin and Ally love each other.


**A/N; So this is different from anything I have ever written before. It's obviously not rated M, which is a first for me, and well I'm not really sure how I feel about it to be absolutely honest. Every once in a while, I get this inspiration to write something sad and real and non-sexual but I usually don't post it because my own preference is light and fun and sexual.**

**Knowing myself, I'll be back to writing smut in no time but it was kind of cool to try something else. I know that there are several stories similar to this out there already and if it's too similar to anything else I apologize. I'm still kind of new to the fandom and I really haven't read all the amazing non-smut fics, mostly because there's freaking like 7000 of them.**

**This was inspired by Paramore's "Still into you" because I was listening to it when this plot came to mind, and I put most of the lyrics from that song in here.**

**I think it's also inspired by a few sad but beautiful fanfics that I have read, as well as a teeny tiny bit by the book "One day", that I both love and hate with a passion.**

**If you haven't already, you should read it.**

**But don't read it.**

**As you will see, this is clearly a one-shot. I wrote it fast and was too lazy to really proofread, so I apologize in advance if there are any spelling or grammatical errors.**

**Please let me know what you think.**

**Even if you absolutely hate it and want to punch me in the face.**

**Yes, I will update the Nanny and Senior Year soon, I just needed to get this one out of my system...**

**Still Into You**

_**Can't count the years on one hand**_

_**That we've been together**_

He's there that morning, that morning when she's too scared to enter the classroom on that first, nerve-wrecking initial day of school. He tries to convince her that there's nothing to worry about, that he will protect her from anything, anyone, and while she might not believe him, he knows it's the absolute truth.

At six, he can no longer count the years that they have known each other on one hand, and he doesn't have one single memory that doesn't include her in one way or another.

"I don't know anybody." Her voice is almost a whisper, and he can tell that she's close to tears. He also knows that she's fighting the urge to chew on her hair, so he grabs her hand, only because _she_ needs it and not at all because _his_ world makes more sense when he's close to her. He knows that it will make her feel better, it always does, and he closes his eyes for a second, wishing that some of his confidence would transfer into her through their interlocked fingers.

"You know _me_." His eyes are open again, and he's smiling, that smile, the smile that makes her feel a twentyten times better.

She nods, her cute little face still scrunched up and serious, but he can tell that the first hint of a small smile is starting to take form on her face as well.

"That's true."

"Oh, and Dez. You know _Dez_."

He sounds excited, almost as exited as he was that day when he managed to sneak a peak of the latest Zalien movie, although his mom had told him that he's not allowed to watch those types of movies.

But he just had to, because that's him.

He can't stay away from the things that he loves.

She gives him a look, that look, as if to say that knowing _Dez_ really isn't much help.

And he knows she's right.

Come to think of it, she usually is.

Their red headed friend from pre-school is..._fun_.

"Ready?" and he points to the classroom.

She hesitates for a moment, thinking of how nice he is and that someday, she's going to marry him.

And then she nods again as he gives her a quick hug, before walking in through the open door, still hand in hand, determined, as if they can conquer anything, everything and the world together.

...

_**It's not a walk in the park**_

_**To love each other**_

He's there at recess that one day, the day when the new girl who has just joined their class is picking on Dez. Her name is Trish, and it seems like most of the class is terrified of her because her mission in life is clearly to make theirs miserable.

He's kind of impressed by how much Ally has changed over the past few years, because she doesn't even hesitate for a second before defending Dez.

It's amusing to see, because he knows that she is fumingly mad yet she looks so...pretty.

She's fumingly mad. Dez might have his quirks, but he's essentially her brother and _nobody_, no matter how intimidating they might think they are, messes with him without messing with her.

He, and the rest of their classmates, watch in amused amazement as the two girls bicker back and forth, and he has to work hard to keep from laughing because Ally may be good at a lot of things, but name calling definitely isn't one of them.

Somehow, the two girls get into some sort of bet, he's not even sure exactly how or what it is about.

What he _does_ know is the outcome.

If Trish loses, she will stop picking on Dez. For forever and eternity as Ally put it.

If Ally loses, she has to kiss one of the boys. On the lips. Whomever she wants, Trish really doesn't care enough to specify.

He watches on as the girls takes off, racing across the yard, and he quietly prays that Ally doesn't lose, but a teeny tiny part of him also kind of hope that she does, because then, she will have to kiss someone and he really, really, really hopes that she will pick him.

The thought of her kissing anyone else makes him a bit nauseous.

And then Ally trips, not surprisingly as that _is_ her signature move, after all, and she loses the race and his heart is beating out of his chest.

All the boys start to squirm, because at 10, they still think that girls have cooties, but he doesn't think so, and if they do, he doesn't mind getting infested, because there is no _way_ he's staying away from his Ally.

She's a bit disappointed in herself, because now Trish will continue to pick on Dez, and probably on her as well, but yet she can't help but to be a teeny tiny bit excited, because she is a girl of her word and she lost that bet, so now she has to kiss someone.

The other girls are giggling and loudly whispering suggestions, but she already knows exactly who she will pick.

There are, after all, only two boys in the class that she cares for.

Dez and Austin.

And she definitely doesn't want to kiss _Dez_.

But she _definitely_ wants to kiss Austin, because while Dez is like her brother, Austin is just...not.

She doesn't love him less (but more), but it's not the same love, it's just..._different_.

She walks up to him, shyly. He looks nervous and she knows that he has never kissed anyone else before either, and she figures that that makes sense, because they _should_ be each other's first kiss.

She leans in to grace his lips with hers, standing on her tippy toes because he's already quite a bit taller then her, and her heart is beating so so so fast.

Her lips are on his and for a second, he forgets where he is because in that moment, they are the only two people on the playground and quite possibly in the world.

But then he hears his classmates laughing, and he's reminded that they are _not_ alone, and that he does have a reputation to uphold, so when the kiss is over (too soon), he wrinkles his nose and says _Ewww_ because that's what he's supposed to do.

As all the boys laugh, he can see the hurt in her eyes and she shakes her head at him before she walks away, back into the school building.

She's hurt and sad and she knows she doesn't taste like _Ewww_, and he surely didn't either, and now she's just so so so so angry.

She avoids him for the rest of the day, and she doesn't want to walk home with him as they usually do, so she leaves before him. He catches up to her, just as she's short-cutting through the nearby park, fast. He knows she's mad, and 'sorry' just won't cut it even though he really, really is, so they simply walk right next to each other through the park, quietly.

They're almost on the other side of it when she stops abruptly, looking at him with those big, beautiful eyes and she kind of looks like she wants to hit him.

"That was my first kiss and you ruined it, you're a...booger face, yeah, yeah, that's it. I should have picked someone else, someone who would have liked it. I should have picked Dallas."

She's still so so so mad, because she has heard somewhere that you're supposed to remember your first kiss for forever, and that was just not the way she had pictured it going down.

Like at all.

And then he's mad too, because _that's_ just mean to say, and Dallas is a dork and a looser, he's _Ewww_, so he grabs her and kisses her again, and this time he doesn't say _Ewww,_ but instead his mouth hesitantly lingers on hers, letting his tongue trace her lips until she opens them and suddenly his tongue is in her mouth.

She tastes like heaven and pancake syrup, which happens to be his absolute favorite flavor in the whole wide world.

And when the kiss is over, she smiles, because she just had a perfect second kiss with the one boy who, unbeknownst to her at that time, will forever make her have extremely high expectations in boys.

And he smiles too, because he knows that, at some point, he will probably kiss other girls, but no one will _ever_ taste as good as her. Impossible.

And they walk the rest of the way back towards their neighborhood, hand in hand, with matching heart beats and reddening faces.

A few months later, Trish finally stops being a bully and the four of them make up, becoming fast friends, soon expanding their uneven, triangular friendship into a perfectly squared one.

(And she _does_ remember that crappy, first kiss forever, by the way.)

(And Trish _never_ stops bothering Dez, but her intent shifts from maliciousness to love.)

...

_**But when our fingers interlock**_

_**Can't deny can't deny you're worth it**_

He's there that afternoon, the afternoon when she finds out that her parents have decided to split up. He doesn't really know what to say as they're sitting by the lake, the lake where they have gone swimming millions of times, so he simply just holds her as she cries and questions love and life and everything else.

Her mom is moving away, and she may have to go with her and she doesn't want to because this is her home, and she doesn't want to leave her friends or her dad.

Or Austin.

God.

She really _really_ doesn't want to leave Austin, who she for some odd reason doesn't include into her mental category of 'friends'.

The prospect of not being able to see her every day makes it hard to breath, but he also wants what's best for her, and if that means moving away, then he guesses that that's the best thing, even if it will make his life about a thousand times less enjoyable.

God.

Maybe not.

And come to think of it, he's pretty certain _he's_ what's best for her.

They're about to start high-school in a few months, and lately he's been having these weird...feelings about her, these desires to do things to her that he has never been wanting to do before, and that he absolutely doesn't want to do with anyone else.

It kind of freaks him out and he knows that it would undoubtedly freak _her_ out too, but he can't stop.

He has tried already.

As the moonlight reflects off of the still water surface and casts a dim light over his face, she realizes just how handsome he is. She knows that all the other girls at school are into him, and it bothers her, because he's _hers_. Maybe not her _boyfriend_, although she often thinks about what that would be like, but _hers_ none the less.

And they sit there for the rest of the night, just the two of them, her hand in his, fingers interlocked, the way it's always been, and yet all these new feelings that they're both are having makes it so so so different.

When they finally and reluctantly walk back to her house, she's still sad, but he has already made her feel so much better just by being there.

As always.

A few weeks later, the decision is made that she's going to stay with her dad, and as much as she will miss her mother she is so so so relieved.

And so is the rest of the square when she tells them.

But Austin more so than anyone else, and then and there he makes a quiet bargain with the universe.

He will love her, unconditionally and for forever and eternity, that's his job, and if he keeps up his part, the universe will make sure that he never ever has to lose her.

Never.

Ever.

...

_**I need the other one to hold you**_

_**Make you feel, make you feel better**_

He's there that night, that night when Trish manages to somehow steal a few bottles of liqueur from her older sister.

They're celebrating, because he has just gotten a record deal, and they all just know that he's going to make it big.

His eyes are already glued to Ally's, not because he wants to but because he simply can't stop looking at her.

She's so so so happy for him, but also scared, because despite being prouder of him than anyone else, she had this eerie feeling that she is one step closer to losing him.

It's just the four of them, by the lake, because although they have made plenty of other friends throughout the years, his preferred shape is still their balanced square.

Trish and her are already giggling after the first few sips of their drinks, and he instinctively feels that it's going to be a long night.

He takes a few gulps as well, the burning sensation from whatever he's drinking (something brown?) hitting his throat and he's pretty certain that he doesn't like it that much, but he continues to drink it anyways because he's kind of curious.

He can't recall whose idea it was, but soon the two of them are no longer by the lake, but in it. Skinny dipping, well, underwear dipping, swimming alongside each other in the coolish water as Dez (who doesn't know how to swim) and Trish (who has absolutely no desire to swim) refuses to join them.

They start a water fight, standing in the water waist deep, and she splashes him and he grabs her and then she kisses him, there under the moon light, and she tastes like heaven and pancake syrup.

And they spend the next few hours drinking, kissing, getting drunk off of each other and the liquor.

He half-carries her home, as she is now drunk out of her mind, swiftly getting her into the house as he knows where the spare key is hidden.

Luckily Lester is a deep sleeper, and he manages to get her upstairs without being noticed.

He lays her down on top of her bed, still fully dressed because he can't undress her even if he kind of really wants to.

And she pulls him in, kissing him and soon trying to undress him, and he loves it but he stops her.

"You don't want me, I get it, I'm not pretty enough", she sounds sad, maybe defeated, but it's a bit hard to hear because she's kind of slurring her words a bit.

He almost laughs, because that's one of the _dumbest_ things he has ever heard because there is _nothing_, nothing in the damn galaxy, that he _wants_ more than her.

He wants her more than his freaking record deal, more than pancakes, more than a million-dollar record deal combined with a life supply of free pancakes.

But he also knows her well enough to know that she would want to remember something like _that_.

So he tucks her in and lays down on her floor carpet.

The room is spinning a bit at first, but he soon falls asleep.

He wakes up a couple of hours later, hearing her in the bathroom and although he knows that she doesn't want him to, he enters, soon holding her hair as she pukes and he knows that he will never ever ever mention it to her because she will be too embarrassed.

He tucks her back into bed, and a few minutes later, as she has stopped stirring, he whispers that he loves her, and he knows she probably can't hear him but he doesn't care, because although he has never told a girl that before, he has never meant anything more in his entire 17 years of life.

He lays next to her, holding her hand for the rest of the night to make her feel better, until the early morning sun peeks in through the window and he quietly sneaks out through it.

And they never speak of that night again.

But he thinks of it often.

Too often.

...

_**I should be over all the butterflies**_

_**But I'm into you**_

He's there that evening, that evening when they attend their senior prom together.

They're just a few weeks away from graduating high-school, and one long short summer away from college (her) and the first world tour (him).

He took her on a date, once, about a year prior, a few weeks after the night that they still don't talk about, and it was awkward, so very awkward. He was nervous, more nervous than when performing in front of hundreds of people, and suddenly it was like they couldn't _talk_ and that _really_ scared him, and at the end of the all but successful night he knew she felt the same way.

So they unitedly decided to stay _friends_.

Best friends.

Forever.

They've both been busy since then, him probably more so as his debut album is doing better than expected.

That doesn't mean that he hasn't been thinking about her, though. A lot.

And although they have both been dating other people occasionally over the last year, he can't even _think_ of asking anyone else to prom, and she has turned down several promposals (while feeling like a complete bitch) because she was hoping that he would eventually come around and ask her and honestly, she rather not go at all if she can't go with him.

And then he finally asks her, one regular afternoon when they're hanging out in her room as usual, and she says yes within a second.

They're going as friends, because that is all they are at this point.

His heart is beating a little too fast as she walks down the stairs, beautiful (as always) and he knows that she's not a _friend_, she's never really been, because he doesn't have the urge to kiss his other _friends_ with lots of tongue.

The prom is great, he's sure of it, but all he can think of is her.

And as they dance together, their hands as well as their eyes interlocking, sparks are flying and they both know that it isn't that the feelings have _changed_, because in all honesty, they have _always_ felt this way about each other, but now their relationship has somehow transformed from a caterpillar of awkwardness into a butterfly of attraction.

When the song is over, they kiss and he thinks he might have died and gone to heaven because that's what she still tastes like, that and pancake syrup, and all he wants to do in life is love her.

They skip the after party, instead lazily strolling together along the nearby beach, her fancy shoes since long removed and the hem of her long dress slightly dirtied by the sand , and they spend the night making out, soberly, wonderfully, pancake-syrupingly, hand-holdingly, star-gazingly.

...

_**I'm into you**_

He's there that following summer, that summer when they're wild and young and free and alive and they are finally finally finally together, like _together_ together, and life is good and breathtaking.

He doesn't remember sleeping at all, not even once, because he's spending all his time with her.

Laughing, loving, making out, hands exploring her body in ways that he has dreamed of for years.

He's there that one night, that night a few weeks before their endless summer is over, when she convinces him to sneak out and spend the night with her. She giggles when she pulls him in through her window, losing her balance and stumbling on to the bed, him falling on top of her and suddenly the giggles get stuck in her throat and she doesn't know what to say, but it doesn't really matter because they don't do any more talking that night anyways as they become yet another of each other's firsts.

And she knows she has never thanked him for it, but she is so so so grateful that nothing happened between them that drunken night a year earlier, because _this_, _him_, _her_, _together_, is something to remember for ever.

They share a few more nights like that.

And they're so so so in love. And he tells her so. Often.

He's there that late summer day, the day when they say goodbye, too soon, but necessarily so as both of them know that they have no time for each other, and she mumbles something about if you love it you have to let it go, and although he doesn't agree he knows she's right.

And then she leaves for college, and he's off on his first world tour.

...

_**Not a day goes by that I'm not into you**_

And then for a few years, he isn't there. There are phone calls, and visits, and concerts and reunions and late nights, but little by little, as one world tour turns into several, her freshman nervousness transforming into confident seniority, the daily phone calls become weekly, monthly and inadvertently they become something _less_.

She listens to his music, and sometimes wonders if some of the lyrics are about her and she misses him with her entire petite being, but she's also busy living her life and college is fun, and so is college boys and Trish and her are having a blast.

But every night, right before she goes to sleep, she still thinks of him and her heart aches a little.

She knows that he's having a blast too, at least if what she's hearing from Dez and reads on the gossip sites is any indication.

He receives the invitation for her graduation party, and he knows that she probably doesn't expect him to come, but he really really really wants to.

He's been traveling almost non-stop, seeing places that he never could even dream of, meeting people from all over the world, experiencing cultures that ha never even heard of before.

And yes, there's been some girls.

Many girls.

But no heaven.

No pancake syrup.

He misses her.

He decides to surprise her, and as he walks into her father's backyard, he scans the small group gathered there, not recognizing anyone except for Trish and Dez.

She sees him, and she squeals, running towards him and they hug, long and hard because it has been a while, and she squeals again when he reveals that he will actually be in town for a couple of months.

She introduces him to her new friends, and her boyfriend, and while he remains as polite as can be, he doesn't even memorize the guy's name, because he _knows_ that this guy doesn't have a recurring role, but is merely an uncredited actor, in the movie of her life.

That, and him and the universe have a deal.

And he's still confident that one day, their timing will be just right.

He's there to help her to move into her first apartment, both functioning as a handy-man and a mediator between Trish and Dez, who are arguing about anything and everything and he realizes that despite the fact that everything has changed, nothing really has.

The uncredited actor is soon gone, almost sooner than he had anticipated.

And for a few months, things are almost perfect. They're close again, but never as close, never too close, because they both know that he won't be around long enough to let the roots of whatever it is that they have grow to blossom once again.

And then he's off on yet another tour.

...

_**And baby even on our worst nights**_

_**I'm into you**_

He's there that day, that day when she gets married, watching her walk down the aisle with a nervous smile on her face and a rose on her cheek.

Some people may consider it weird to have your ex-boyfriend there, but they both know it would be even weirder _not_ to have your best friendish person there.

He's insanely jealous, and he wonders what the groom is thinking, how he's feeling, that lucky bastard, because if that would have been _him_ up there, at the end of that aisle, he's pretty sure that he wouldn't still be standing up right.

They've only met a few times before, him and the groom, _he_ really hasn't been in town much, but the man is...nice.

Harmless. A bit boring.

Definitely _not_ worthy of being a leading man.

At least not for her.

And what even is this wedding? There are way too many people there, and it's impersonal and just not _her_.

The night is a blur, and he tries to enjoy himself but it's difficult as the echo of regret is ringing in his head, because now she's not his Ally anymore, she's someone else's, and apparently the universe is a cheating bastard as it is clearly not holding up to its part of their bargain, because he still loves her unconditionally and yet, he's lost her.

Their timing will never be right.

Her falling in love with someone else, somewhere in between his third and fourth world tour, really wasn't part of the plan. At all.

And then the night is over, and she's leaving with _him_, that bad not-good-enough actor, and he's mad, because nobody ever tells you that wanting to have it all is a dream for a reason, because reality, the too harsh reality, is that there is absolutely no way of having it all.

She loses sight of him in the crowd and she starts to wonder if she has perhaps lost sight of herself as well as she can't recognize half the people who are waving them goodbye.

And then she spots _him_, over there in the corner, clearly standing out of the crowd and not just because of his height.

And the last thing she sees as the too fancy car drives off is him, his blond hair, and she fights away those feelings in her stomach, those damn butterflies that he's still the _only_ one who can make come alive and procreate.

He watches her leave, and he feels rather melodramatic when thinking that he will never love anyone as much, and it's a hard realization because she just married, fucking _married_, someone else and that should be about as much of an ending point of _their_ relationship as anyone can think of.

But he's still into her.

And then he leaves on another tour.

He thinks of her often. He knows that a piece of his heart will forever be missing without her, but he also knows that there is no rule against being happy even with a partial heart, as long as the person in possession of the piece is happy.

And she is. He thinks.

So he is.

He thinks so, at least.

So he moves on.

At least he thinks so.

He calls her a few months later to let her know that he's engaged, and she pretends to be pleasantly surprised, although she's neither pleased nor surprised as she still follows him through the press.

And despite the fact that he's not _hers_, and that _she_ is someone else's, she cries the second she hangs up the phone.

Dez calls her a few minutes later, asking her if she is ok,and she realizes that she's not the only one question her own decisions.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asks, her voice not completely steady and he stays quiet and she knows that he knows that she's not.

Her life has changed since she was a little girl, a lot, but her dream has remained the same and unfortunately, the _man_ of her dreams has too.

And in that moment, she knows what she has to do, although it takes her a few more months to admit it even to herself.

...

_**And on drive back to my house I told you that I loved you**_

He's there on that late night, that drunken, sloppy mess of a night where she confesses that maybe, perhaps, most likely she's still irrevocably in love with him.

They're in a cab, both of them too intoxicated to drive.

She has been divorced for a few months and he's back in town for a few days, and they haven't seen each other for a while and for the entire night they have talked about anything and everything, everything except her leaving her husband and him breaking off his dumb engagement.

She's angry and drunk as she's sitting in the back seat, and she says that she hates him and he hugs her, really really really tight, because although it hurts to hear her say that, he knows she doesn't or she wouldn't be there with him.

She's still rambling, word vomit rather than actual vomit coming out of her mouth this time around.

"You. It's you. It's always been you. You're messing with me, with my head, even when you're thousand miles away and I can't...I had a good life, why did you have to ruin it? I hate you."

"No, you don't." And he hugs her tighter.

"I hate you because I love you", she whispers in his ear and his heart almost explodes because she fucking loves him. _Him_.

"I love you, too, Ally. Always have, always will."

And he kisses her, and although he hasn't done so in forever because they've been stupid and she's been someone else's, it feels so so so right.

And she kisses him back, hungrily, because they've been stupid and she has been pretending to be someone else's and kissing him feels so so so right.

Heaven and sweet syrup.

And vodka, but he can live with that.

The universe is in balance again.

They only make one stop that evening, at his house, spending the rest of the night making love, and he knows that he truly has only done so a handful of times before, with one person and one person only, one crazy summer forever ago yet clear in his mind as yesterday.

In his drunken mind, the night is beautiful and romantic and perfect, although he kind of knows that the reality probably resembles a bad pornographic movie.

She doesn't seem to mind, though.

He's there the next morning, the morning when she pretends that she doesn't remember all the things she has told him the night before, and he's mad and sad and angry and so deeply in love that he doesn't know how to think when she's not around and all he wants is _her_, damn it.

And she does remember, but she knows that if she admits that, if she admits that she loves him, he will probably cancel his tour and she can't let him, because she can't let him stop living his dream.

And he's frustrated, so frustrated, because he can't make her understand that _she_ is his dream.

So they argue and yell for a bit.

And then he's off on another tour.

But somehow, for some odd reason, he's just not feeling it anymore.

...

_**And to your favorite song**_

_**We sang along to the start of forever**_

He's there that Fall day, that beautiful Fall day when she gets married again.

This time, however, he knows exactly how the groom feels because he's fairly confident that he, as he is now approaching the age of twentyten, is fairly in touch with his own feelings.

Euphoric.

He watches her walk down the aisle, from the front of it this time around, as Dez is mumbling something incoherent next it him and he feels complete.

There aren't a lot of people there, just the ones that really matter to them.

His parents are there, and her mom, of course, and her dad too, and the two of them don't argue even once, and her dad even offers to pay for the wedding in an uncharacteristic display of generosity. It's nice. Even if they all know that they won't take him up on it.

It's her dream wedding.

Small, inexpensive, intimate, the love almost tangible.

Perfect, from the small hall to the all but fancy menu, and they're both proud that they somehow manage to squeeze in both pancakes and fried pickles.

He's not touring anymore, at least not for a while, but music is still a part of his life and it's his preferred way of expressing himself, so as the night is coming to an end, he sings her a song, one of his first hits, the first songs he ever wrote.

The first out of countless songs that he wrote about her.

She joins him half-way through it, their voices as perfect of a match just like everything else, and they end their perfect wedding by singing along to the start, or maybe more fittingly for them, the continuation of forever.

And then they have a perfect, romantic, pornographic wedding night.

...

_**Some things just, some things just make sense**_

_**And one of those is you and I**_

He's there with her that late night, that night in the hospital as she's twitching in pain, yelling his name as if he's the root of all evil in the world and he's not sure if he should laugh or cry because he has never seen her like that before, and it hurts him but it is also slightly entertaining and nerve-wrecking and scary, because this night is life-altering.

He's there a few hours later, when she finally gives birth to their daughter, and he holds her in his arms, and he knows that the only thing that he could possibly love as much as her is the tiny miracle that they have created together.

And as he glances over at her, his _wife_, _his_ wife, the impossible happens.

He now, somehow, loves her even more.

As she observes him from across the room, she realizes that although they may have made some mistakes, and wasted some time, they wouldn't be here, exactly _here_, now, in _this_ particular moment, if those mistakes didn't happen.

His eyes meets hers, a proud smile plastered across his face as he lightly rocks the bundle of screaming joy, as if to say 'at least we did _something_ right.'

And she smiles back, knowing that they did _everything_ right.

...

_**Let them wonder how we got this far**_

_**Cause I don't really need to wonder at all**_

He's there that late summer day, that day when their daughter gets married, walking her down the aisle, proudly, and she knows that she's the only one that can tell how nervous he is, not of the ceremony itself, but of letting her go.

He _can't_ let her go, she's _his_. He has been there for every moment, from diaper changes to riding her first bike to her first heartbreak.

And now she's off to make her own memories without him.

She watches them dance at the reception, the father-daughter dance, the hall filled with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, and she realizes that she's blessed, that they're blessed, because a love like _theirs_ doesn't come around _even_ once in a lifetime for most people.

And a few hours later, _they_ dance, with snap-shots of their joint existence flashing before her eyes, the ups and downs, the fights and make-ups (oh, the make-ups), perfect moments and imperfect ones, all weaved together into the quilt of their lives together, a quilt that forever will keep her warm and cozy.

...

_**'Cause after all this time**_

_**I'm still into** **you**_

He's there that winter morning, the morning when she enters the church. It's beautifully decorated, and she tries to look at all the flowers but her eyes are filled with tears and her vision is a tad blurry and her knees are a little wobbly. Luckily, both Dez and Trish are there to support her, both physically and mentally.

It's a beautiful day, the temperature outside just right, but somehow she feels cold.

His _body_ is in that coffin up there, that wooden rectangular thing, that looks so uncomfortable and for a moment she contemplates going up there to make sure that he's okay before she realizes that he's not.

His _body_ is in there.

But his _spirit_ is everywhere.

Her senses are _flooded_ with him.

She sees him in the sad smile on their daughter's face.

She hears him in the innocent laughter of their grandchildren.

She smells him from his cologne that she has now taken to wear every day.

She tastes him at the following reception, where pancakes are served. Of course.

And she _feels_ him _everywhere_, in the air, him filling her a little bit more with each breath that she takes, and he may no longer be next to her, but he is forever and always _in_ her.

And she smiles, because they have proven that life-long love isn't just an unobtainable illusion but to them, a wonderful, privileged reality. Their life has been made out of the exact material that romantic movies and other people's dreams are created from, and as unfair as she feels that it is that his story was written with fewer chapter than hers, she also knows that they were two of the lucky ones, because the chapters that they _did_ share were so good that they're worth reading repeatedly.

Over and over again.

And then she remembers their quilt of memories, and she's warm again.

...

_**I'm still into you**_

And then, as she enters the large house that was theirs but is now hers, he's not there.

And he won't be coming back and she has no clue how she's supposed to wake up every morning without him.

She's not sure she wants too.

The days blend together somehow, as she continues to cock dinner for two, and continues to keep the AC at _his_ preferred temperature, and continues to watch his favorite shows, although she now has full control over the remote that they so often argued about.

At night, she walks around the house, looking at the photographs, their kindergarten class picture, their prom picture, their wedding picture, so many pictures and yet not enough.

It doesn't really matter, though, she realizes, because the greatest memories are not captured in those photographs, but stored in her, and she doesn't need a photo album to pull them out, because all she has to do is close her eyes and remember.

And she does.

Often.

...

_**I'm still into you**_

He's not there but he's there that night, that night when the movie of her life is stuck on replay in her mind.

Over and over.

Every important moment, and he's _there_.

Their first kiss, the way he whispered he loved her that first time, the time when he thought she was to drunk to remember, their _first_ night together, their _last_ night together, their _life_ together.

He may have missed a few scenes, filler ones, the ones added with the pure purpose of moving the story along, but he has undoubtedly been the beginning, the in between and the end of that movie.

The recurring character.

The heart throb.

The movie star.

And as she is about to fall asleep, on her side of the bed because even though his side of the bed _looks_ empty it's not, she smiles because she somehow knows that this is the last time she will be doing so.

She closes her eyes.

Takes her last breath.

And then he's there.


End file.
